Clary's Song
by sparklingdisaster
Summary: First fanfic--What if Cara had a cousin? What if that cousin was a witch? Clary thought she was just an ordinary half-blood until she discovers her Muggle father was not quite as unmagical as he appeared.
1. The Beginning

**(A/N Hiya, everyone! This is my first published fanfic, so if I slaughter anything, PLEASE DON'T KILL ME. I know that many of you will not have read Coville's Unicorn Chronicles, but just roll with it, okay? You're the best. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own, or claim to own, anything in this fanfiction. So, have fun, guys!)**

Every kid knows their family history, to some extent. I've always known that I was a half-blood: my mother a witch and my father a Muggle. I saw my mother's side of the family often, but I knew next to nothing about Dad's; just that he had been raised by his mother and had a half-sister I had never met.

I got my letter to Hogwarts when I was eleven. Mum, never one for displaying heaps of emotions, was pleased, but Dad, her opposite, was ecstatic.

"I'm so proud of you!" he whispered in my ear.

"You can't be surprised that I got in," I chided in disbelief, pulling away from his fierce hug.

"I am, a little bit," he admitted.

"Thanks a lot," I muttered, my face flushed with embarrassment. Dad shook his head. "Don't misunderstand me, sweetheart. It's just that . . .when I fell in love with your mother, I had no idea that she belonged to a whole other world. I've always liked tales like the ones that my mother used to tell me, but to find out that magic actually exists, and that your mother loves me enough to take me into her world, is mind-blowing. I suppose that I was afraid that I would ruin your chances of fitting in a world I can only watch."

I surveyed him for a moment, then said in a mock-serious tone, "This, from the man that I managed to levitate at the age of six?"

He burst into laughter and pulled me back into the hug. "You'll be a fabulous witch," he murmured. I grinned.

"Aw, don't worry, Dad," I said, teasing. "I'll always remember my Muggle father."

The Sorting Hat was taking its sweet time.

When McGonagall had cried, "Morris, Clarissa!" I had walked to the front of the room nervously. Now, sitting on a stool in front of the whole school, the famous Hat down past my eyes, I was waiting for the ground to open up and swallow me.

"Now, now, don't be impatient," it chided. "You wouldn't want to end up in the wrong House, now would you?"

_No, _I thought fiercely, knowing it could hear me, _but I don't want people to stare at me, either_.

"Ah, self-conscious, are we?" it whispered.

_Do you always have lengthy conversations with the people you Sort? _I thought scathingly.

"No, not always; but having no room for brains I must muse out loud. You see, some people are easy to Sort; they have clear characteristics that define them and set them apart. With you, not so much, hmm? You're intelligent, with a good memory; you could be in Ravenclaw if you wished. Gryffindor's a definite possibility; so is Hufflepuff. You would even get along quite well with the Slytherins. So what to do with you, eh?"

_You're surprisingly chatty for an enchanted object, _I griped. _Can't you hurry? People are staring._

"Yes, I think I've made my decision, unless you object, hmm?" It whispered its choice in my head, and I nodded vigorously. At this point I might have agreed to jump off of a bridge just to stop the staring.

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat bellowed.

**(A/N I know, I know. Everyone puts their fanfiction characters in Gryffindor. But Clary really is brave; that'll show up later.)**

_Thank you, _I thought, and slipped the Hat off my head. The whole school was applauding, Gryffindor table the loudest, and I felt myself blush from my hairline to my chin, so deep that I felt woozy for a second.

I made it across the room. The other Gryffindors made space for me, and I smiled shyly at them. I recognized several other first years that I had seen on the train, including a girl in simple dark robes and blonde hair who smiled encouragingly at me.

"Hi there," she said. "My name's Amy Dickinson, what's yours?" She held out her hand for me to shake, and, slightly surprised, I did so.

"Clarissa Morris," I said, "but people call me Clary. I thought the whole Hall heard my name."

She grinned. "They did, the ones that aren't bored out of their skulls waiting for the feast, I'll wager. And the rest, like me, never remember names.

"I can't believe I'm here," she continued. "All my life I thought I was some sort of freak, and here I find out that I'm a witch, that there's a whole other world that I belong to. My parents are Muggles, you see," she confided.

I was startled at how much her words reminded me of my father's.

"I've heard that people born in Muggle families are looked down on," Amy continued. "No one here has made any comment, though . . .except for some of those stupid Slytherins." She made a face. "Well, if they do, I'll just have to prove them wrong, won't I?" she almost snarled, as if I was the one challenging her.

"Yes, I suppose you will," I said, surprised by the vehemence in her tone.

She smiled apologetically. "Sorry. It's just . . . I'm the youngest out of four children. I'm used to having to fight for my right for anything. Out of all of them, I'm the only one going to Hogwarts. My two brothers won't stop teasing me about it."

"I'm an only child at home," I told her. "My mother is a witch, and my father is a Muggle. He's the best dad anyone could ask for, though." I was suddenly homesick.

"My parents were so surprised," Amy confided, leaning in. "They said they were fine with it, but I know for a fact that they were more shocked than they were letting on."

We continued talking all through the start-of-term feast, while we were led to our dormitories, and when we chose beds next to each other. It surprised me, how quickly and easily I had made a friend.

**(A/N I know, I know, the ending was horrible. Review, please! Constructive critism is welcome, and I don't bite, I swear. I have a three-headed dog for that. [Here, Fluffy!] :) Also, I'm not British. I'm American and I've never even been to Britain. I've tried to sound . . . ah, British-y, for lack of a better term, but if I slip up, that's why.**

**Love you all, sparklingdisaster)**


	2. The Message

**(A/N: Okay, no one is reading or reviewing my fanfic, which sucks. But I'm not picky. I knew that it wasn't going to get a lot of attention when I started it. I'm pretty sure that the only reason I keep publishing this is to encourage myself to keep going and actually finish something in my life. And maybe, who knows? I'll write something popular, and people will want to check out my other stories.)**

Hogwarts was the best place I had ever been.

It was exhausting, true, but I had never had so much fun in my life. I had a friend who wasn't my blood relative (and therefore forced to put up with me) for the first time, and I was learning so much that it sometimes made my head spin.

Amy was brave, popular, and smart. Sometimes I wondered what she was doing with me, but she remained unswervingly loyal. Often, she would invite me to stay with her during the Christmas holidays and for part of the summer, or she would come and stay at my house, where it was considerably quieter.

Our school years passed in a blur to me, but some events stood out in my memory. For instance, in our fourth year, a huge ruckus was caused when the Chamber of Secrets was opened for the first time in fifty years.

"Aren't you scared?" I asked her; as a Muggle-born, she was at a great risk from the monster. I, personally, was terrified, not for my sake (I was, after all, a half-blood) but for hers. How was I supposed to live without my best friend?

"Scared?" she scoffed. "I'm not scared of some stupid monster. Heir of Slytherin, beware!" she cried, holding her wand in the air rather like a Muggle sword, and we burst into giggles on the dormitory beds.

Nevertheless, I didn't let her walk the corridors without me until the end of the year, which didn't seem to annoy her as much as it usually would have.

In our seventh and final year at Hogwarts, rumors were running wild that the infamous Lord Voldemort had returned, apparently from the dead, which was openly opposed by the Ministry, as they sent an absolute troll to teach us. To combat their decision, Harry Potter, a fifth year who seemed to be at the heart of the rumors, led a rebellious D.A.D.A. group called Dumbledore's Army. Amy and I were both in it, and learned more spells and counter curses than ever before.

The day after we had taken the last of our N.E.W.T.s--sweet relief!--an owl arrived with mail for me.

"Hey, thanks, sweetie," I crooned, stroking it gently with one finger.

"Amy, look at this," I said, showing her the letter. It was from my father.

_Dear Clary,_

_After many years of empty searches, I have finally managed to contact my mother. You know how hard I've been looking for her these past years, but she seemed to have disappeared. Anyway, she sent me an email--_having had Muggle parents like the two of us had, there was no confusion as to what an email was--_and she'd like us to come and visit her in America., along with her granddaughter. School will be out for the term soon; maybe you'd like to travel with us? _

_Write soon. Use one the Hogwarts owls; as you can tell, Mum's is sick at the moment. _

_Love you,_

_Dad_

"Oh, Clary, that's great!" Amy exclaimed. "A long-lost grandmother, _and _a cousin, too. How exciting!"

"Yeah," I mused, looking down at the letter. "How come she waited till now to get in contact if she's been avoiding Dad for so long? And . . ." I let my voice trail off rather than say what I was thinking, which was who the heck tried to hide from their son, anyway? They hadn't had a falling-out or anything.

Amy shrugged. "Who cares? You'll get to go on a trip to America! Think of all the things you'll get to do--I only wish I could come with you. I swear, I have _never _been _anywhere _in my _entire life,_" she groaned.

I rolled my eyes, knowing she was exaggerating. "Very funny," I paused as inspiration hit me. "I don't see why you can't, actually," I mused. "I mean, most Hogwarts students take a year off after school--see the sights and relax, you know? Why _shouldn't _you come with us--I mean, if you really wanted to?"

Amy beamed. "That's a simply marvelous idea, Clary! I can probably convince my parents to let me go, even though by their Muggle standards I'm not 'of age' yet." She rolled her eyes. "As if I hadn't had my seventeenth birthday months ago now! But would your mum and dad allow it?"

"I don't know," I told her. "I'll ask--in fact I'll go write a letter to them right now."

Mum and Dad, after some persuasion, agreed to let Amy come with us. Three weeks later we were gathered at my house to Apparate to America.

"Does everyone have all their things?" Mum asked, looking around. Mum was beautiful; tall and slender with dark hair. In looks, I could have been her double, though I doubted I would ever have her easy grace and cool confidence.

"I have everything I need right here," Dad said cheerily, kissing Mum on her hand. She turned and kissed him full on the mouth, and Amy and I coughed and cleared our throats in embarrassment.

"I feel so loved," I joked dryly, trying to ease the tension. Mum and Dad came unglued, beaming at each other, and we all joined hands.

"Now, I know you girls have your Apparating licenses already, so I'll be taking Dad by Side-Along-Apparition. If anything goes wrong, you're to meet at the front of the house, or if things go _really _wrong, find the American Ministry of Magic and ask for help, are we clear?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Yes, Mum."

"All right then," Mum said, "off we go." She turned on the spot, and Dad gave a little wave and a wink as they vanished into thin air with a faint _pop._

"Are you ready, Clary?" Amy asked, her face rather pale. She had been frightened of Apparating ever since she had Splinched herself quite badly several months ago.

"Ready if you are," I said, giving her hand a squeeze. "Count of three, then."

"One," Amy muttered, looking as if she was about to be sick.

"Two," I continued.

Amy took a deep breath. "Three!"

Together, we turned on the spot, focusing our minds on the house half a world away that we had never seen. Instantly, a crushing, suffocating darkness enclosed us. We couldn't see or breathe--there was nothing, nothing in the whole world but pain and pressure and Amy's hand clenched in mine. Then, just as I thought I could bear it no longer, it was over. Amy and I emerged together into a world of birdsong, cool breezes, and blessed sunshine.


	3. The Empty House

**(A/N: Disclaimer: I own nothing. This covers the important parts of the first chapter of **_**Into the Land of the Unicorns**_** and IS NOT MINE in any way, shape, or form. I just abbreviated it.)**

"_Grandmother, is that man following us?" _

_Cara's grandmother glanced over her shoulder, toward the library. When she turned back, her face was twisted in a look that Cara had never seen before. Tightening her grip on the girl's hand, the old woman began to walk faster . . ._

"_In here," said Grandmother Morris suddenly, pulling Cara's arm to steer her to the right. They went down a narrow street--little more than an alley, really--and turned into the side entrance of St. Christopher's church . . ._

"_Put this on," the old woman said, slipping a chain from her neck._

_Cara's eyes widened. "Your special?"_

"_Take it! Put it on. You may need it before this is over."_

"_Before what is over?"_

"_No time to talk. Take it!"_

_Reluctantly, she closed her hands over the bauble. Her fingers began to tingle. . . ._

"_We have to get out of here," her grandmother whispered. "We're going to crawl to those doors as silently as we can. I will push one open. You go through first. Be ready to run if I give the word."_

_. . .The smooth floor was cold beneath Cara's fingers._

"_Be ready," whispered Grandmother Morris. Kneeling beside Cara, she began to push on the door._

_Cara was halfway across the threshold when her grandmother called, "Run, Cara! Run!"_

_. . .They came to a small landing._

"_Do you have the amulet?" her grandmother whispered. Cara nodded. _

"_Here is what you must do . . .climb to the top of the tower. Count the tolling of the bell. On the twelfth stroke, press the amulet tight to your chest and whisper 'Luster, bring me home.' . . . Then, you must jump."_

We arrived in the backyard of a suburban house. Amy gasped and sank against a nearby tree.

"All right there, Amy?" I asked, watching her concernedly.

"Fine," she muttered, never one for admitting to weakness. "I just hate Apparating."

"Well, we're here now. I wonder where my parents got to," I mused. "I don't see them."

"Neither do I," Amy said, who was looking less pale and clammy. "Shall we look around and see if we can spot your grandmother?"

"Yes, I suppose so," I replied. "We should walk around to the front--they're both Muggles and might be surprised to find us in their backyard."

Amy grinned. "Of course, the noise like a gunshot might have alerted them to our presence."

"Perhaps," I said. "But no one is coming to investigate . . . Come on."

We let ourselves out through the gate and walked around to the front of the house. Amy rang the doorbell.

Nothing happened.

"Aren't they here, then?" I wondered out loud.

"Maybe. . .Maybe they've gone out?" Amy said. But we both felt it--the house was empty, abandoned. We exchanged uneasy looks.

"Maybe something dreadful's happened," Amy said, voicing my own thoughts. "Maybe we should see what's wrong."

"Maybe you're right," I said. Pointing my wand at the door, I said, "_Alohamora!" _Still no sound from inside--surely someone would notice the sound of a door being forced open?

"C'mon," I said, stepping inside. Amy followed, both of our wands drawn.

The house was undisturbed; when we looked in closets, no possessions appeared to be missing, and no signs of a struggle, ruling out the possibilities of vacation and attack, respectively. But why did the house feel so empty? I could detect the subtle magic of laughter, love, and life in the building, but the traces were very faint.

Amy's voice came from upstairs.

"Clary! Come here, quick!"

I hurried towards the sound of her voice, already aiming my wand as I did so. Turning the corner into a bedroom, I saw Amy bending over the unconscious form of an old woman lying on a bed.

"Is she asleep?" I asked, finding my voice at last.

Amy shook her head. "I don't think so. I shook her, and she didn't wake up. But she's not dead--she has a pulse, see?" Her fingers were pressed lightly to the woman's wrist.

"Maybe she's been Stunned," I suggested, pointing my wand at the woman's chest. _"Enervate." _A jet of red light flashed from my wand, but nothing happened.

"Clary. Look at this," Amy said. She was holding a book in her hand. A note was taped to the front.

"It's addressed to my father," I said.

_Dear Nick,_

_I am so sorry that I am not here to welcome you. I know it was I who suggested this visit. I also would like to apologize for avoiding you for so many years. This was for your own safety as well as the safety of myself and Cara, your niece._

_Cara has been living with me since her parents left several years ago. We are being pursued, and have now been cornered. I have sent Cara to safety, and if you're reading this letter, I have been incapacitated. You are in grave danger. The instant you set foot on this property, my enemy will be able to reach you. Leave at once, and don't come back. Don't worry about me, for I can take care of myself. _

_I am so very sorry to have brought your family and Cara into this. You must trust me, and forgive me if you can. _

_All my love, _

_Ivy _

"Ivy," I murmured. "My grandmother's name is Ivy. Does that mean this woman is my grandmother?"

I peered at her face. Now that I was looking for it, I could tell that she looked a lot like my father--small, blue-eyed, pale skin, graying red hair. "But what's wrong with her?" I said to myself.

Amy was rereading the letter. "'The instant you set foot on this property, my enemy will be able to reach you.'" She glanced up, her eyes wide. "Her enemy? What enemy would that be? And Clary--oh, Clary--what if this enemy has taken your parents?"

My own eyes widened in horror. "We have to find them." Frantically, I opened the book, looking for any clues of where they could be. It appeared to be a diary. Together, we skimmed the pages.

"This is weird," Amy said after a moment. "Reading your own grandmother's diary. What all this she's talking about another world?"

"'Luster, the land that magic creatures fled to escape men.'" I quoted. "Amy, we've heard of this before! In History of Magic!"

She stared at me like I was insane. "You paid attention in History of Magic?"

I rolled my eyes. "The point is during medieval times, when wizards were forced to go underground, the magical creatures left Earth!"

Amy stared. "That can't be true! What's Care of Magical Creatures, then?" she demanded, referring to a class we had both taken at Hogwarts.

"Wizards can hide better than most animals can. The Ministry of Magic advised those who could not to leave for their own safety. Bellenmore himself, the Minister of England at the time, opened a passage for them in two different worlds.

"Most, like wizards, went into hiding, and those who couldn't fled to where they could live in peace. But the ones who couldn't hide and wouldn't leave were abused and tortured until they became dumb beasts; the Ministry couldn't stop it."

Amy looked worried. "But where's your cousin, then?"

I thought for a moment. "My best guess is that my grandmother sent to her Luster on her own. The Ministry created a handful of amulets, to allow passage for a select few. They keep tabs on whoever owns one, but I've never seen the register. It could be that my grandmother had one in her possession."

"What enemy would be after her, though?" Amy asked.

"Maybe . . ." I said, struck by sudden inspiration. "A long time ago, a Muggle girl was sick. When a unicorn found her, it tried to heal her, but her father battled it to the death. The girl, Beloved, she was called, became immortal and raised an army of her descendants to wipe out all unicorns. She became immensely powerful and learned magic without being born with it, like we were. I think . . . I think this was Beloved's work. But why would my father keep this from me?"

"Maybe he didn't know," Amy suggested. "Maybe she never told him. Clary, I think your cousin needs help. She's a Muggle; she doesn't know how to defend herself."

"I think you're right," I said. "But how to get to her?"

"Maybe," said Amy nervously, "maybe we could Apparate."

I had to think for a moment. "To another world? Would that work?"

"We could always try," Amy said.

We didn't have much time to decide, either. Based on what the letter said, Beloved could take us at any moment like she had taken my parents. In the end, we decided to try and look for my parents on the way.

Focusing our minds onto the drawing of trees and flowers we had found in the diary, for the second time that day we gripped hands and turned into suffocating darkness.


End file.
